


my whole heart, yours forever

by thewonderzebra



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: A very extra proposal, Briefly mentioned teammates, Established Relationship, M/M, Marriage Proposal, More Self-Indulgence, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 22:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15827946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewonderzebra/pseuds/thewonderzebra
Summary: In which a proposal takes place.





	my whole heart, yours forever

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blindbatalex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindbatalex/gifts).



> Alex bribed me into posting this, so here it is.

Patrice knows from the moment he and Brad begin officially dating that he wants to marry his linemate. Their chemistry, both on and off the ice, is unparalleled, and Bergeron can't imagine spending his life with anyone else. Now, to plan the perfect proposal without allowing Marchand to suspect anything. He enlists the help of the team--which is easier said than done, especially when it comes to making the guys keep their mouths shut--and gets to setting the plan in motion. 

He picks out a ring and has it sized weeks in advance, and the thought of seeing Brad's face makes Patrice's heart flutter when he picks it up. Then, he goes to the Garden with some of the guys to plan the reveal. Once his plan is set in place, there's only one more person to ask for help, and that's Bruce Cassidy. The Bruins' head coach can't hide his smirk when Bergeron comes to him, asking for his help proposing to Marchand; he also can't help chirping the man, for waiting as long as he had and for making such a big deal of it. When Patrice is blushing and shifting around on his feet, though, Bruce gives in and agrees to help--how could he say no, really? 

Several weeks later, after a stellar Bruins win on home ice, Patrice feels his stomach doing backflips as the team celebrates on the ice. He takes off his gloves as he skates over to the bench, holding his hands out to Bruce. Looking around to make sure prying eyes are sufficiently distracted, the head coach gives a subtle nod, and fishes a certain velvet box from his pocket to give to Patrice. The man wearing number 37 lets out a quiet, nervous laugh, but after getting a pat on the shoulder from his coach (and his teammates on the bench), he returns to Center ice under the guise of continuing the celebration. Hiding the ring box, Patrice skates over to where Brad is congratulating Pastrnak on a job well done, and kisses his love on the cheek. Instantly, Brad leans into his touch and Patrice has to force himself not to get distracted.

“Hey ange,” he murmurs in Brad’s ear. “I think Coach wants to see you.” Patrice tries to keep his voice even as he says this, despite having planned saying this exact phrase for weeks. 

Brad turns toward Patrice, head tilted slightly in confusion. “Me?” He asks. “What did I do?” 

Patrice shrugs. “I don’t think you did anything,” he assures, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth the frown away from Brad's mouth. “Pretty sure he just wants to ask you something. I don’t know.”

Marchand looks skeptical, but Bergeron keeps his expression as neutral as he can make it. “Okay,” Brad drawls. “Well, wait for me? I want to go to the locker room with you.”

“Of course,” Patrice promises. “I’ll be right here.” He gives him what he hopes is a confident smile, and presses his lips to Brad’s cheek one more time before shoving him in the direction of the bench. Then, he turns to Pasta, who grins excitedly at what he knows is coming, and begins waving those who are on the ice with over for a brief huddle. 

Meanwhile, over on the bench, Brad takes off his helmet like the rest of the boys have already done, and looks expectantly at Bruce Cassidy. He is more confused than ever when the head coach just starts smiling, but approaches him nonetheless. There is clearly something going on, but he doesn’t know what, so he just stays quiet and acts normal. "Uh, hey coach," he greets. "What's going on?" 

Bruce strikes up a conversation with Brad about the game, and how practices have been going. He compliments the left winger on showing leadership to the rookies, and praises him for his work on his line with Pasta and Bergy. In the process of this conversation, the fluorescent lights in the Garden go out, and are replaced by colored spotlights, dancing around the ice. This phenomenon, along with the startling lack of reaction(s) from the rest of his teammates only increases Brad's confusion. 

Eventually, as Brad begins getting antsy, Jake DeBrusk comes over, looking shy as he taps Bruce on the shoulder. "Hey, coach," he says quietly. "I'm sorry to bother you guys, but I think Bergy wants Marchy's attention for a sec." 

Brad waits for someone to scold the rookie for interrupting, but is shocked when the head coach just smiles and nods. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Marchand looks from DeBrusk to Cassidy as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He is close to yelling, wondering what in the hell is happening, and why everyone is acting so strangely. Frankly, he is wondering if he has gone completely crazy. Then, he turns around, and looks to center ice. 

On one knee, looking shakier than Brad has ever seen him, is one Patrice Bergeron. Brad hears his own breath leave his lungs as he takes in the sight of Patrice, wide-eyed in the colored spotlights at center ice. He can't believe this is happening right here, right now, and he feels almost frozen in place. Then, he feels several gloved hands on his back, shoving him forward, so he has no choice but to skate on suddenly weak legs over to where Patrice is kneeling with an open ring box, looking shaken but so earnest. 

"Bergy," Brad manages to say, throat dry and voice hoarse. "What…is…is this what I think it is?" He wonders how much longer he'll be able to stand up--on skates, no less--with Bergy looking up at him nervously but also like he's the sun in a dreary world. God, he wants to pull him to his feet and kiss him. 

Patrice smiles weakly, aware of the way his heart is racing in his chest, aware of his hands beginning to shake, and aware of his teammates all watching him and his love. "Marchy," he says. "We've gotten along on and off the ice since the day we met, and I've loved you for just as long. You're my linemate, but you're also my soulmate, my partner in crime, my angel on the wing, and the best friend I could ask for. You're kind, funny, smart, and talented, and I'm so proud of everything you are. I'm incredibly lucky that I get to wake up to your smile, your hugs, your kisses, and so much more every day, and I want to wake up to that every day for the rest of our lives. You make my life so much fun, and I can't imagine doing anything without you." 

He stops and takes a ragged breath before continuing, being sure to look up and into Brad's wide eyes. "Being with you feels better than winning the Cup," he continues. "And I want to hold onto that feeling forever. So, I guess what I'm saying is, Bradley Kevin Marchand, will you do me the honor of marrying me?" 

Brad tries to hold it together, he really does, but he just can't. He breaks down, tears streaming down his cheeks and an almost maniacal grin tugging at his lips as he nods fiercely. The rest of the team seems to have gone totally silent, staring open-mouthed as they wait for a verbal answer. "Yes," the left winger finally breathes. "God, yeah. Of course I'll marry you Patrice." 

Patrice reaches for Brad's left hand, then, slipping the ring onto his finger and smiling at how perfectly it fits. Then, he pulls Marchand down to the ice and hauls him into an embrace, kissing him soundly as their teammates cheer. Tears of his own leak from his eyes and mix with Brad's as their lips repeatedly crash together. They are both shaking from nerves and adrenaline, but as far as they can tell of each other, they couldn't be happier. 

Eventually, the two separate, and help one another to stand up. The team is still cheering, and both Brad and Patrice receive excited hugs, fist bumps, and pats on the back as they find their footing. The group begins making its way off the ice and toward the locker room, and the newly engaged couple are glued to one another, arms and hands linked and standing as close as is humanly possible to one another. Whenever they look over at one another, Brad and Patrice both grin and tear up, seemingly in disbelief. 

The Bruins have more to celebrate tonight than just a hard-earned win. As such, the locker room celebrations take longer than usual. Brad and Patrice stay next to one another as they shower, change clothes, and organize their equipment, bumping their hips together and stealing kisses. Bruce gives a short speech, congratulating the team on their win and then turning to toast Brad and Patrice on their engagement. In turn, this spurs on the rest of the boys who alternate between chirping and honest congratulations, leaving the couple of the hour with vibrant blushes on their cheeks. 

After a while, though, Brad sidles over to Patrice and clings to him, and Patrice knows exactly what it means. As much as they love their teammates (and as grateful as Patrice is for their help), they want to go home and celebrate together. So, after another round of hugs and celebratory back pats, Patrice takes Brad's hand in his and drags him to the car. They kiss passionately away from prying eyes for a few moments, smile at each other, and proceed to head for home. 

Patrice grabs Brad's hand once more inside the confines of the car, squeezing gently and never relinquishing it as he drives them home. Brad occasionally lifts their joined hands to his lips and kisses Patrice's knuckles. They don’t talk much, content to just be in each other’s company. Every so often, they will exchange loving glances and affectionate words, but there is no pressing need for either one of them to fill the silence.

So it stays until they are home and in their bedroom, at which point Brad breaks a passionate kiss Patrice had initiated, seeming to remember something. Patrice is left standing at the foot of the bed, looking slightly confused as Brad begins riffling through the nightstand on his side of the bed. It isn’t long, though, before the left winger makes a triumphant sounding noise and closes the drawer, returning to his fiancé’s side with his hands behind his back. Patrice takes note of the blush beginning to creep up on Brad’s cheeks, notes his hidden hands, and raises an eyebrow. 

“I, uh,” Brad stutters. “I have something for you Bergy.” He hurriedly straightens his arms out, pushing his hands (and a small, square box) toward Patrice. Unsure of how to proceed, he begins chewing on his lower lip nervously. 

Patrice regards the box for a moment before reaching out to touch it. “Marchy?” He asks. “What’s this? Did you know I was going to propose tonight?”

Brad shakes his head, looking even more embarrassed. “No,” he says. “I swear I didn’t. I’ve had this for months, and I had no idea what to do with it. I wanted to make it perfect, but I didn’t know how, or if you’d even want to marry me in the first place. I just keep thinking I'm not good enough for you, you know?” 

He opens the box hesitantly and takes a step toward Patrice, who catches his face in his hands and kisses his forehead. "Hey," Patrice murmurs soothingly. "I don't ever want you to feel like you're not good enough. I meant what I said on the ice, Brad. You make life better, and I can't imagine being with anyone else. You're it for me." 

"You're not, I don't know, disappointed in me?" Brad asks. "I could've proposed first and didn't." He has the overwhelming urge to shuffle his feet and look down at the floor, but Patrice's hands on his face make that considerably difficult. 

After giving him a soft smile, Patrice takes a step backward, but only so far as to be able to take the ring box from Brad's now shaking hands. He takes the ring from its enclosure and puts it on his left hand, admiring the fit briefly before tossing the box onto the bed. When he meets Brad's eyes again, he smiles and pulls him into his arms, kissing him soundly. "Does that answer your question?" he murmurs against his lips. "I'm not going anywhere, mon amour, and you definitely didn't disappoint me. I love you so much." 

Doubts temporarily quelled, Brad clings to Patrice, burying his face in his love's neck and kissing his collarbone. "I love you too," he mumbles. "So goddamn much. And this might be a non-sequitur, but will you take me to bed?" 

Patrice throws his head back and laughs, because of course that's where Brad's mind is going. He can’t say his own mind isn't already there, though. So, he kisses him one more time before leaning back to grin at him. "Tonight and every night for the rest of our lives, ange," he agrees. Brad's response to that is to jump into Patrice's arms and wrap his legs around his waist; Patrice simply makes good on his promise, and takes him to bed, no more words needing to be spoken between them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and humoring my self-indulgence. Comments are always super meaningful, so feel free to leave one. Positive feedback fuels my plot bunnies. Come say hi on Tumblr (@thewonderzebra) and yell with me about Bergy/Marchy, Bruins, and other hockey things. I love hearing from you!


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